Sweet The Arrival. . .


The Necessary Journey

Breath was taken as wind
whipped itself to a literal frenzy
and the waters ripped
the edges of shore.

The moss flew at right angles
from the branches of the Spanish Oaks. . .
so beautiful the eyes
could only tear with awe.

The girth of the trees no tape could measure.
They bowed with the weight of centuries.
How else to say that the need to know
was brought home, except

to drop the knees and fret the cold ground.
The road did not matter anymore
nor the bulrushes scythed
to make room for foot to transgress.

Small difference the way or means
but necessary the journey.
So sweet the arrival.
But why we lost the knowledge

that was ours to begin with and why
the unbelief in who we were?
Who stole our basic goodness,
stripped our decency?

They who took advantage of our innocence
and we who did not question will be held accountable.

photo by John Hallissey

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